Page 22 of Emeric

Why was I like this? Couldn’t I have a normal life where I didn’t worry about every little thing? What was that even like?

Once upon a time, I was okay. My anxiety wasn’t as bad as it was now. But that was before my mom passed unexpectedly. Her death put a different perspective on life. How anything could happen in the blink of an eye, and my entire world could change.

My phone alerted me to a text, causing me to freeze in place on my way to the laundry room. Shit. What if he said no? What if he said yes? I didn’t want to know, but I did. I couldn’t bear to read it, but I had to.

Turning the phone over, the screen lit, and there was Emeric’s text.

Emeric: I would love to have dinner with you. Name the time and place and I’ll be there.

Oh my god, I was going to faint in the middle of the kitchen.

“He said yes!” I yelled, except there was no one to hear me. That was for the best. If anyone listened to me walking around with my panicked monologue and random yelling, it wouldn’t go over well.

I texted him back and hoped eating here would be okay.

Me: How does tomorrow night at 7 at my place sound? We can make it later if it’s too early.

He was a busy man. Who knew what kind of meetings or other appointments he had?

Emeric: Sounds good. I’ll see you then.

Okay, this was perfect. He didn’t seem to mind coming here. That was a check in the right box.

Oleander must have told him I had anxiety. Either that or Emeric took me in stride. I wasn’t as bad as I could have been. Oleander being here had helped. Now I was going to be alone with Emeric.

The next stage of panic set in. I was going to be here by myself with him. Not only that, what was I going to make?

No, I wasn’t going to jump from one panicked line of thought to the other. Instead, I was going to grab my wallet and keys and head out to the store to buy what I’d need for dinner. Being midafternoon, the store should still be relatively quiet. The evening rush wouldn’t have started yet.

In the garage, I got into the Lincoln Navigator. The SUV was far too big for me, although I liked the space when I brought home something larger or heavier, like when I bought multiple bags of mulch for the front of the house. I could have hired someone to do it, but being out in the yard on a warm day felt good. Working with my hands was fun. It was why I had a greenhouse on the property.

The drive to the local market wasn’t far. I could have gone to the big grocery store, but tomorrow’s dinner called for the freshest ingredients, which I preferred to get locally if possible. I sometimes grew too many vegetables and brought them into the market. I didn’t need the money, so the owner started putting them in a basket on the counter to offer to people who couldn’t afford much. Once she did that with my vegetables, others joined in, and before long, there was a large, open pantry of food in the store for anyone in need. Now I grew more than I needed just so I could fill it with vegetables when I could. I might not get out of the house daily or like socializing, but I remembered what it was like to be on the verge of eviction from my apartment when I was offered a hand up.

I could never repay the kindness Jordan showed me. I would forever be in his debt. It didn’t matter that he was a mafia boss or he did illegal shit. He was still kind to people he didn’t know well and was there when I needed help.

“Sylvan,” Wendy greeted when I stepped into the market. Her dark, curly hair fell past her shoulders. If I had to guess, I’d say she was in her mid-forties. She owned the market with her husband, but I rarely saw him. He handled accounting, ordering, and other office tasks. “It’s good to see you. Are you in need of something particular?”

Leaning in close, I whispered, “I have a date.”

The smile that lit Wendy’s face made one form on my own lips. “That’s wonderful. Tell me what you need.”

“First, let me hand you these.” Reaching into my bag, I pulled out thyme, oregano, basil, and kale, I grew year-round in my heated greenhouse.

“These look beautiful. I’ll put them out for others to take.”

“I’d also like to give you this.” I handed Wendy a couple hundred dollars to put directly toward pantry food purchases.

She clutched the money to her heart. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to our community. Every bit helps.”

“If you ever need anything, let me know. If I don’t grow it, I’ll buy it.” I didn’t flaunt my money, but if someone was going hungry, I wanted to help.

Wendy stepped around the counter where the register was and embraced me before putting the items I brought into the pantry. “You’re a good man. Now let’s get you ready for your date.”

Butterflies took flight in my stomach. I did my best to ignore them as Wendy and I picked out what I needed. The store was quiet, with only a couple of people shopping who weren’t ready to check out yet.

“Tell me about this man,” she said.

“He’s an attorney. I was so worried he wasn’t going to say yes.” I didn’t want to go deep into his profession. If I said he owned a hotel, that would narrow down who he was. There was no reason to tell Wendy his name when we hadn’t even been on a date yet. Plus, saying his name meant tying him to Jordan. Of course, there were ways around that. He wasn’t only employed by Jordan. For now, I was keeping it vague.